Paint
by AcaWiedersehen
Summary: Doodles and brush strokes are Beca Mitchell's native language... But now, with Chloe Beale, she's thinking about becoming bilingual.
1. Chapter 1

Beca had been instilled with the amazing ability to create at an early age. From her years as a toddler, Beca would pick up markers and make little doodles that wowed her family and friends, and that support only grew as the years went on.

Gradually, paint and pen strokes became an outlet. Each stroke held a story, a line of thought, a feeling, and Beca was well versed in their language. In the oddest sense, she became addicted to art. While most kids were drinking at parties or sleeping with their best friends ex's, Beca was at home sorting out her feelings through wild shapes and abstract thoughts. Sometimes these artistic doodles were complex, lengthy, and obnoxious, but other times they were simple and obvious. Beca preferred the simple sketches herself, but found that she created more elegant pieces in the times her mood and demeanor began to fall apart. She couldn't control it- but when she got wrapped up in her work and emotions, she just let it all pour out of her.

It was with these over-the-top pieces that she used to apply to the Barden Institute of Art.

Barden, the Big Kahuna of all Art Schools within Atlanta… BIA, or "Bye-Ah" as the population called it, had been nothing but a thought for Beca until she entered high school, when she realized that it could actually be a dream-come-true.

Remarkably, the response to her application was speedy and, yes, unbelievably positive; because not only had she gained an admission into the prestigious school, but she had earned a $48,000 scholarship as well. And here's something about Art Schools and scholarships: if the school gives you one, they really want you. So, not only was Beca accepted into BIA, but BIA was begging for her to attend. That truth made the small girl's heart soar.

What Beca did not expect, however, were the first-year classes she had been forced into. She imagined that BIA would be a fun place where she could pick her classes and shape her future... Focus on a Major... Stuff of that sort. She was thinking Communication Design, something that could get her on the map and money in her wallet. Nowhere in there had she wanted to focus on Fine Arts- but apparently, that was what the school wanted for her to do. Nearly all of her classes revolved around either English or Observational Drawing. Don't get the wrong idea, Beca was good at both... But she hadn't planned on dedicating an entire year on the two subjects.

Especially not Observational Drawing.

In high school Beca loathed still-life drawing. Like really, who gives two shits about a box with a kettle on top? No sane person, that's for sure.

So anyways, Observational Drawing. There were two main focuses in their first few weeks: still life and normal life... AKA, gestures. AKA naked people. Just thinking about it sent shivers down Beca's rather shy and self-absorbed spine. She for one did not enjoy staring at naked people. (There were times she would say different, but those will be ignored in this case.) She felt like it would be a major invasion of privacy... Like, really. Would you like to be looked at as you twirl your naked ass up on a podium? Probably not.

They had been warned before-hand that the class would be required, but at the time Beca brushed it off. She figured it wouldn't bother her when the time came... Which obviously proved to be false.

So she sat, quirked at a 20° angle in the sights of the wooden stand that would soon be supporting a naked model. Anxious and dark eyes scanned the room as Beca tried to find their future subject, but no one was in the room except for a pack of thirteen students and her professor, Carl. Beca felt like she was going to melt, her hands clasping gently at her board on and off out of habit. Beside her, Jesse (whom she had met during orientation) fiddled with his supplies; trying to sort his charcoal pencils from his charcoal sticks.

"Did you buy newsprint?" His soft voice whispered suddenly, eyes never leaving his charcoal. With one quick glance Beca could understand the reason for his asking. Where she had placed a pad of NewsPrint, he had placed a pad of Sketch Paper. "I totally forgot," he admitted, "I only have this expensive stuff."

Beca cocked a brow and released her board, gaze falling slightly to his hand of charcoal. "I see."

"Can I please borrow some? Trade?"

Strangely enough, Beca found herself smiling. Jesse was a nice guy; innocent. But apparently, he was a doof too. "Yeah, sure." The brunette flipped open her pad and tore out a good twenty sheets of her cheap paper. "You owe me, though."

Grateful, Jesse took the paper from her grasp and clipped it to his board. "Deal."

Beca grinned and returned her attention to the objects in front of her. Everything felt so different and out of place compared to what she was used to… Compared to High School. Granted, everything looked a lot like High School with it's desks opposed to lecture halls, but still… Whereas she was used to the clean construction of an actual school building, BIA was constructed completely with cement floors, plastered walls, and not to mention there was paint everywhere. But that said, the oddest thing was how everyone treated each other. Wherein High School had cliques and groups, College had nothing. There were just groups of friends and acquaintances… For once, Beca didn't feel like she was being judged every time she was caught doodling in a notebook because, yes, so were fifteen others. Hell, even the teachers were doodling every now and then.

"Alright," the exasperated voice of Carl Prescott started, "looks like I've given you guys enough time to set up." With carefully maneuvered steps, Carl moved his elderly and large self across the floor and to the spot in front of Jesse. "Today we are working on Two-Minute Gestures. So, work fast. Don't pay attention to detail," his eyes latched onto Beca for a time longer than necessary, "just draw the basic outline and shapes. Gestures. Got it?" The class nodded in approval, most of them even shifted their seats to prove how ready they were. Beca didn't know what she had been expecting; some large reveal of sorts, maybe, but suddenly there was a lean ginger, no older than twenty five, across the room. She scanned the room with indifference- paying no heed to any of the students within the classroom. Beca could feel her heart thrum in her chest as the red-head got closer to the stand, and at some point Beca even had to drop her eyes to the pad in front of her. She felt so strange watching this woman clad in a blue bathrobe. Beca could't help but wonder what was going through the ginger's head at the time. Was she embarrassed? Or was this just another job?

Just as Beca looked up the robe dropped to the floor. With a small gulp, Beca readied both herself and her charcoal before looking up to meet her model.

Her beautiful, flawless model.

The fear that had previously overtaken the girl dissipated quickly, leaving a sort of numbness in its wake. All of a sudden Beca wasn't scared… Uncomfortable, sure. But with how many others in the room, surely someone else felt the same. Gripping her charcoal tightly, Beca began to make lines on her paper; starting with the head. The simple circle flowed out of her with ease before leading down into a sole movement line: curving towards the bottom left of her paper where the Woman had majority of her weight focused. Stroke after stroke Beca mirrored the Woman that was standing in front of her; back taught as she did a semi-lunge forward. Her form was elegant and dancer-esque… It was then Beca began to wonder what the Woman was doing in a place like this. A place of outcasts.

"Switch!"

Beca flipped her paper over and started again, taking in the new shape of the Woman. This time she had picked up a stick to use as a prop that she had placed horizontally against the back of her neck- using her forearms to keep it in place. The Woman looked like a mix of a Stick-Fighter and a Supermodel.

For every pose the Woman did after, Beca began to relate her to different people in different situations. It was a fun little activity that kept her from looking at her junk, but it was helpful too. Beca could feel her imagination expanding along with her Gesture-Drawing capabilities.

Oddly enough, Beca was growing excited for their next Gesture class.

This went on for another two hours until Carl hollered out a long and proud, "good job!" And on cue, the entire class began packing up their belongings, making sure to leave out their most successful drawing for the professor to collect.

As Beca placed her pad into her supply bag, she turned her attention to both Carl and the Woman. She was robed now, rushing into the dressing area at the back of their classroom, eyes lightly fixed on Carl. "Thanks again, Chloe. Great job." The Woman, Chloe, nodded gratefully at his praise before going into the room.

It was then Beca realized that she had not heard the woman speak once.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Pitch Perfect or any of its characters!

* * *

Days of silent longing passed for Beca as she waited for the girl with the red hair to return. It wasn't like she enjoyed staring at her naked body or anything, no, that'd be weird… But she did enjoy the feeling of mystery that the girl seemed to radiate. Beca had not felt that way towards anyone in a long time. Curiosity quickly took her over, throwing her into a confused and somewhat concerning place.

Before long, Beca would find herself anticipating the Tuesdays and Thursday's she had class… Only to be disappointed when her person of interest wouldn't show up. It was a vicious cycle that Beca found herself repeating with growing discomfort. However, on the bright side, Beca would be too disappointed by the lack of "Chloe" to notice the old-man 'junk' that dangled in front of her face. (What a shitty silver lining.)

About the fourth day in Jesse noticed Beca's annoyance. He had been watching her for a while, daring not to speak out of fear. Beca seemed unpredictable and her emotions always wavered with ease, it was no surprise that the boy had been over-intimidated by the young girl.

"So, Beca. Are you always this upset about drawing naked people?" The class had been on their lunch break, and just seconds before Beca had been angrily shoving her discarded drawings into a folder behind her drawing stool. A look of snark rejection crossed Beca's features as she watched Jesse take a bite of his chicken sandwich, his movements were solid and confident; unyielding under the brunette's scrutinizing gaze. "If you are, that's cool. Don't worry about it, we're almost done."

"That's not it," she huffed, ripping her heavily eye-lined gaze from the boy and to her folder once more. "I'm just disappointed with how all of these drawings are turning out."

A thick brow cocked as Jesse lowered his sandwich and gave his undivided attention to the girl before him. "Oh?"

"I like to draw how I taught myself, you know?" Jesse's blank stare did nothing to positively answer her statement. "Forget it."

"No, no! I get you." The boy's features lit up as he weakly reached for Beca, as if it would stop her from being frustrated with him. (Which she wasn't.) "Like the instruction, right? You don't like him shitting on the lessons you taught yourself?"

Beca's mind flashed to the times she would sit in her baby-blue room and draw by herself.

The inspiration to do so came from her pain; from her loneliness. In those moments, Beca would remember what she had and what she lost. Those times were tough, because in those moments she would realize that she didn't have her mom or dad anymore: just one or the other. Beca didn't know why her parents had split. All she knew was that they weren't together anymore, and she couldn't be herself without showing them who that was. From that point on, Beca had felt like a half of a person. An empty shell, her melodramatic self would say. She wasn't depressed though... just a little broken. When her mother died, it got even worse. Everything would flow out of her and onto a piece of paper, but not from and to anything or anywhere else. She just kept her mouth shut and her hands moving.

"Yeah," she agreed robotically, "I'm just not used to it."

"I feel ya. Well, in a way." Jesse fell silent and picked at the breading of his sandwich, "I wanted to go into photography, so I mean…"

Beca nodded slowly, understanding. "I can doodle, sure. Not this though. You on the other hand?" The young man nodded towards Beca's Board and pad of Newsprint. "You're really good."

"Thanks."

"I do think that the first day was where you were at your prime, though. Drawing Chloe?"

Beca's heart felt as if it had stopped. Did he know? How the hell would he know? Beca cleared her throat as discreetly as possible and sat back down in her spot. "Chloe?"

"Oh, yeah." Jesse turned to Beca and nodded, "the ginger? She's the TA in my Understanding the Visual class. She's going into photography, like me."

"You've seen her work?"

"For sure. Like, the first week in she showed us her stuff. It's pretty cool." Jesse went back down to his sandwich, messing with the top bun some more before shoving it back into his mouth.

During the silence, Beca took the chance to think about everything Jesse had just relayed to her. Chloe was a student here, not a paid model like the others. So, that meant if she looked hard enough, she could probably see her in the halls. But why? Why would she want to see Chloe again?

"What did you mean by 'I was in my prime'?"

Jesse shrugged, "your gesture lines just looked smoother. You let it all flow," at the mention of the word, Beca zoned out again. Chloe was an aesthetically pleasing woman, sure, but that wasn't the reason for her fascination. Chloe's movements and the way she morphed herself up on the stand was what had captured her attention. Chloe was an excellent model who, just as Beca had done with her work, showed off who she was with how she moved.

Before Beca could open her mouth to ask another question, she noticed the silence within the room. Above her, Carl stood, hands clasped and waiting. At some point he must have called everyone's attention to start the next set of sketches, much to Beca's dismay.

* * *

Beca's first month at Barden had been a constructive one. Not only had she learned the ropes of the school itself, but she had improved the quality of her art by an awe-inspiring amount. The only thing she had not constructed, however, was a decent and sizable group of friends. This wasn't new, though… Beca had always been problematic when it came to making friends. She always came off as cold and heartless, which was semi-true in cases, but she was loyal. People looked over her and judged her wrongly with ease, and together those facts had harmful results.

Though luckily, Beca had Jesse. Jesse would drag her places to meet people, and she tried, oh she tried. It wasn't her fault that the students Jesse introduced her were dense as fuck but, needless to say, it all still stung a little.

"What are you thinking about Majoring in?" They would ask.

"Communications Design," she would say.

"But you're such a good drawer!" They would exclaim, "It'd be such a waste of talent."

And then Beca would get bothered. "I like the story telling aspect of it-"

"Illustration and Fine Arts do that too," they would interject, as if they were purposely trying to piss her off. At those comments Beca would usually scoff or just ignore them altogether. She wasn't good with arguing subtly, or being passive about these things either. It was her future, after all. They, complete strangers, shouldn't get a say on what she's focusing on. On what she's paying thousands and thousands of dollars on.

After a while, Jesse realized that when the conversation hit that point it would be best to distract the group with a shitty joke or proclamation of where to hang out. Today, apparently Jesse was hungry, because in no time at all they were making their way over to Subway. "Why does everyone try to get me to change my Major?"

"They see the talent in you that you ignore."

Beca, mildly put-off by Jesse's words, crossed her arms and looked to the group that was leading them. "Is that how you feel, too?"

"I don't know," Jesse shoved his right hand into one of his back pockets while carefully leaping over a sidewalk crack, "do you want me to be honest?"

A dull pop echoed through still air as Beca clacked her tongue. She debated her options, quickly considering how whatever he was about to say could piss her off to the point of physical confrentation. As of right now, she really didn't feel like punching Jesse, and she enjoyed having at least one friend. But, she risked it. "Yeah."

Jesse skipped himself over and into the spot ahead of Beca and turned, causing for their eyes to lock. "We're in an art school. Everyone is talented with what they do here, and some are more talented than you. You just need to think things through, weigh options, and wait before you declare your major."

Beca pursed her lips. She shouldn't have been expecting a different response. Jesse was a smart guy, sure he acted like a door most times, but he gave excellent advice when prompted. And though it hurt to admit, he was completely right. "That was pretty good advice, Obi Wan."

Jesse shot Beca a bright grin, "I think you meant Yoda."

"Eh... You're not quite there yet."

"One day."

Beca returned the smile, "maybe. We'll see."

With a quick flip of his person, Jesse returned to his previous spot by Beca's side. "So, is the big girl ready to construct her own sandwich?" The tone in Jesse's voice was light, despite the strange and awkward weight of their previous conversation.

"Always."

"There's this thing tonight all UV students have to attend." Jesse started, once again impressing Beca with his ability to switch conversational directions in the blink of an eye. "It's a sculpture competition the ID and IAD students put on. You free?" A questioning glance was thrown to Beca, both pleading and hopeful. Though she could have come up with some excuses to turn him down, Beca couldn't. (Besides, he probably knew just how empty her schedule was anyways.)

"I suppose."

* * *

The Sculpture Showcase was not what Beca had expected. Prior to going, she had thought that it would be something small and simple; hardly known by the larger population. That was not the case. People littered the streets searching for any source of entertainment they could find, such as Artist explanations, talks, and even free cooking advice from the school's chef. There were hundreds upon hundreds, all crammed into a makeshift park at the end of the schoolyard. Beca was caught off-guard, to say the least, but she was excited too. After following around Jesse for an hour as he tried to jot down some notes, she was promised the time of her artistic little life.

"You wanna go in?"

Beca's attention quickly snapped to the boy beside her. "What?"

Jesse carefully motioned towards the cardboard shelter they were standing in front of. It was a work of art, literally, and Beca felt it would be taboo to do so much as poke the form. It's walls were constructed of dull brown cardboard cut and shaped into a form that looked like a four- legged starfish. Two pyramids made up one point; one on top opening to the sky, and one below that created a stand on the ground. Together they created something aesthetically pleasing and oddly functional.

"Do you want to go in," Jesse repeated, "it's allowed. The Sophomores have to sleep in them tonight, so I'm sure it's sturdy." He gently elbowed her in a light and teasing manner, "besides. You're so small that you couldn't do any damage if you tried."

Beca cocked a brow, "what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

A strong laugh erupted from Jesse's person, quaking him from head to to. It was good to see that he found her amusing... In a bitter sort of way. "Give it a shot. YOLO. C'mon, I'll take your picture! I'll go get you a brat!"

Beca grumbled incoherently for a moment before considering and then accepting his proposition. "Just this once. And I want a good one, something with flavor."

"Sure thing, Gordon."

A faux scowl was shot towards Jesse as Beca slid herself into the box, and as soon as Jesse snapped a picture, she was out. "Never again."

Jesse winked as Beca's phone shrieked off an ominous ding, signaling the retrieval of a message. Most likely a photo of herself in a brown starfish. "I'll be right back," he promised, "stay there."

So she did.

Feeling bored within a flash of a moment, Beca unlocked and began browsing through her phone to keep herself busy; making sure to snap a few pictures of the projects as she did so.

Suddenly, there was someone behind her, scribbling harshly into their sketchbook.

"Excuse me," the girl's voice started, "do you know who-" as soon as Beca's eyes made contact with the girl's blindingly blue ones, she fell silent.

'Oh my god.'

"You look really familiar." The girl stated, squinting her right eye shut ever-so-slightly. "Have we met before?"

Beca, now extremely nervous and flustered beyond compare, gulped and tried her best to remain calm. Or, at least, appear calm. "No."

As soon as the word exited her lips the ginger lit up, seeing right through Beca and her poorly executed lie.

"Oh! You saw me naked!"

* * *

 **Author's** **Note:** I hope all is well so far! I also hope that even those of you that don't understand Art terms can understand this story. If not, feel free to PM me and I'll make it more clear in future chapters! Feel free to follow/talk to me on Tumblr... I love art and Bechloe. ( AcaWiedersehen )

Please review, favorite, follow... Whatever it is you wanna do! Thanks again!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Pitch Perfect! But, I will take credit the ideas behind this AU. (Wink-Wonk)

* * *

Beca screwed one of her eyes shut and cringed away from Chloe's concerning statement. A few people around them took the time to stop, stare, and consider what was going on before shrugging and returning to whatever they were doing.

"No…"

Chloe nodded slowly with a smile etched onto her features, "yeees," she drawled out, "you did! You were in that Observational Drawing Class I modeled for."

Without so much of a bat of her eyelashes, Beca sighed and returned her attention to the sculpture in front of her. "Fine," she admitted in defeat, "I was." Taking a moment to let the images of the ginger's naked body flow free from the confines of her skull, Beca crossed her arms and turned all of her attention back to Chloe. Chloe, whom looked pretty damned pleased with herself.

"What are you planning on making your major?"

After careful deliberation Beca spoke with full honesty, proclaiming her intentions of following a career in Communications Design.

"Really? That's great!," Chloe shifted her gaze to Beca's ear as she leaned in close, "I know some students that are following that same path. If you want more info, just let me know."

Beca shivered as Chloe's warm breath trickled across her ear and neck; sending her to a whole different plane of existence. She tried her best to hide the shudders, but with Chloe so damn close Beca was sure that every little breath she took could be seen. "Cool, I'll keep that in mind."

Chloe pulled away and shot Beca a coy wink.

As if he could sense the sexual tension, Jesse made an appearance, "BECAW!" he screeched; drawing the attention of everyone within a mile radius. Both girls instantly shot their attention to the lad, whom was now approaching them fast with several plates of food. "I've got apple brats, beer brats…" He paused and offered Chloe a warm smile, "oh! Chloe! Didn't see you there." Both plates were thrust forward towards Beca and Chloe with ease and an amazing amount of friendliness, "want a brat?"

For a moment, the gears in Chloe's head came to a halt. But then she plucked a brat from a plate, spoke a quick "don't mind if I do," and took a bite.

Beca hesitated and then followed suit.

"You working on a project?" Jesse's eyes lit up, scanning the notebook at Chloe's side.

Recognizing Jesse's look of curiosity, Chloe rose the sketchbook up over her blue-bloused shoulder and showed it off. "Nope, just passing some time," she bubbled.

Beca gave the girl a look of bewilderment- unsure of what to say towards her idea of 'passing time'. " _Fun_ ," she managed at last, drawling out the word so that anyone who _actually_ bothered to listen would realize that she was being a sarcastic little shit.

"Totes." Suddenly Chloe's eyes flashed with sudden interest. "I totally forgot to ask for your name!"

"Beca."

"Beca," she repeated; holding onto that word for dear life, "got it. I'll remember that." Chloe turned to Jesse with a curt smile, "I've gotta go. Aubrey's probably waiting for me. But, I'll talk to you two later?"

Jesse nodded, understanding. "For sure."

"It was nice meeting you, Beca." The ginger offered Beca her full attention once more before turning her backs to them both and giving a small wave. "See you in class, Jesse!" It was amazing, really, how simple it was for her to leave the both of them in such awed states.

"Well, she seems nice." So nice everything felt like an act; there was no way that someone _that_ pretty could be so damned kind. (And **bubbly**.) With a small sigh, Beca moved her hand towards Jesse and plucked a stray piece of bun from his plate. (To which he groaned.)

"She is. She knows what she's doing, too."

"Oh, I bet."

Jesse, eyebrow raised, turned his head to look at the suspiciously sarcastic girl. "Stop it."

* * *

 _"You're dripping like a saturated sunlight_

 _You're spilling like an overflowing sink_

 _You're ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece_

 _And now you're tearing through the pages and the ink…"_

Simple words flowed easily through Beca's headset as she let herself be taken away by her music and her work. Keys clicked under her fingertips as she typed, word by word, the synopsis of Malcolm X and his trials of learning the alphabet in prison. The topic wasn't _actually_ interesting for Beca, but that didn't stop her from falling into a sort of literary rhythm. However, that task quickly came to an end as a dull _ping_ echoed into her ears, signaling a new email.

Finishing her last few thoughts, Beca peeled off her headphones and unlocked her phone; skipping right to the email app.

' _Hey, Beca!_

 _I hope you don't mind me sending you a message over our school email, but I was wondering if you'd like to join me and a few others for coffee later? Majority are CD Students, and they'd love to take a chance and help you out. Let me know if you're interested, and I hope you get this on time! Talk to you soon!_

 _Chloe Beale_ '

To say the least, Beca had not been expecting any form of contact from Chloe… Especially not in the unbelievably short period of a **day**. (Granted, the email was completely school related and not unprofessional by any means, but still... No one went out of their way to contact her like that before.)

Beca responded as quickly as possible.

' _Hello, Chloe._

 _That sounds great, the more I know about what I'm spending the rest of my life doing, the better. What time were you thinking?_ '

After re-reading and spell-checking her response nearly ten times over, Beca hit "send" and waited.

It was scary to know that Chloe had this effect on her; that with just a few words, Chloe could have Beca stop whatever she was doing and pay attention **only** to her. Thank god that what Chloe was dragging Beca into was school-related, because if it wasn't Beca could have been _screwed_.

A good two minutes (and one refresh) later came a response proclaiming that they would meet at a "Starbucks down the road" at 3:00... which at that point was only two hours away. It was a little short notice and Beca was tempted to give the lot of them a rain-check, but she held off and agreed. This meeting could affect her future. It was not the time to be lazy and procrastinate just because "she wasn't feeling it."

Within a matter of moments Beca typed up a quick, accepting, and positive response before rushing out of her room to shower and change. Midway through her dorm, however, she was stopped by her roommate, Kimmy Jin, who gave her a cold and solid glare.

"You're being loud."

"Sorry," Beca started, feeling nothing but attacked and a little off-put, "I'll be gone in a little bit."

Kimmy Jin was one of those roommates you heard about in horror stories; a roommate that you could totally picture drugging you up and harvesting your organs to put on eBay. Sure, that may have been a little overkill, but who knows. Kimmy Jin certainly didn't seem to like Beca- no matter how accepting and neutral she tried to be.

Where she was anticipating a small "good" or something of that nature, she received nothing. Kimmy Jin simply looked her over and turned her attention back to her laptop. Doing what she could to brush it all off, Beca continued on with her trek to the bathroom.

Now the question _was what to wear_ …

A slow and meticulous Beca Mitchell quickly filtered through her clothes, plucking out any tops that were worthy of a day out. Majority were plain tanks and ugly cardigans, but she had a few special flannels hidden in the nooks and crannies of her dresser. _One of these will have to do_ , the brunette mused. Eventually, Beca settled on a grey tank and purple flannel- she wanted to look as if she had tried, but not " _tried too hard_ ".

With quick footsteps and eager fingers, she entered the bathroom and twisted the shower knob, turning on the warm water that she would soon step into. The best thing about the dorms was that no matter how much water you used, you never had to pay a cent extra. Back at her old house she would constantly worry that she was causing economic stress on her dad (despite how upset she always seemed to be with him), so she would have to limit herself. But, luckily, that was not the case here.

"Everything is blue," Beca began, stripping off her clothes from the night before. "…his pills, his hands, his jeans…" She sang, echoing the music that was playing in her ears prior. She sang quietly enough not to disturb Kimmy Jin (whom was only a few feet away) but loud enough to hear her voice resonate around the walls of the small and cheap shower.

Singing wasn't a talent of Beca's that she made public… Well, not in college at least. Back in elementary school and middle school she acted and sang in a fair share of plays and musicals, but all of that came to a halt when her family split and mother died. Because along with her mother a little part of her died, too.

Now the only time she felt it appropriate to "let-loose" was in the shower. Alone.

Upon finishing her jazzed-up rendition of Colors, Beca exited the shower and dressed for her Coffee meeting. "I'll be back later," she notified a quiet Kimmy Jin- who, quite frankly, couldn't care less.

* * *

"Beca!" Bright red hair flashed and flicked through the doorway of Starbucks as Beca approached, and in that moment Beca considered that the waving red could be taken as a sign to stop and run. Run before it was too late.

Sadly, Beca must have hesitated too long because she quickly lost her chance to escape; within moments the ginger was perched on a step right in front of her.

Beca could feel Chloe's excitement vibrate the whole space around them, sending shockwaves of anticipation through every part of being. "You made it," Chloe breathed, rocking and bouncing on the steps of Starbucks.

Beca offered a small and cautious smile. "Yep."

"Well, come on in!" Chloe didn't even give the girl a second to react before grasping the brunette's hand and dragging her inside of the Coffee shop. Beca felt her stomach erupt with butterflies at Chloe's touch, but that sensation dulled as she noticed the small group of four other ladies at a mediocre table in the middle of the room. Before she could feel any more embarrassed with herself and her unfitting choice of attire, Beca turned her attention to a blonde that had been watching her closely upon entrance. "This is Beca, the Freshman I was talking about."

Chloe dropped their hands and sat in an empty chair, welcoming Beca to sit in a matching seat beside her. And even as she sat down, Beca could feel the lingering warmth of the Ginger's hand...

"Hello, Beca," the blonde started, "I'm Aubrey. Fine Arts." Beca offered an amused smile... Fine arts, she should have seen that one coming. Everything about this girl screamed "classic".

On her left her a stout, kind, and black woman nodded, "…Cynthia Rose, Communications Design."

"I'm Stacie, also in CD. And this, here," the lengthy brunette (whom was concerningly perfect in every physical way) motioned towards a quiet Asian to the side of both herself and Beca, "is Lily. Same."

Beca gave a dulled smile, "nice to meet you guys."

"Likewise," Stacie drawled with a wink. "So, what else are you planning on doing? Any minors? Double-Major?"

"Um- " Beca felt her face fall as she began to think. There had been majors and minors filed under the 'consideration' tab of her internal filing-cabinet, but for the moment she wasn't too confident with her choices.

"I'm going to go get us some coffee," Chloe interjected, "Beca, you want anything?"

"No, thanks…" Beca would have felt guilty if she had accepted Chloe's offer to buy her a drink. After all, she was just a stranger. With a small smile and a nod, Chloe stood and made her way over to the counter as Beca completed her answer. "I was thinking about minoring in Illustration, I guess."

Stacie pursed her lips as Cynthia Rose spoke up, "oh! That's always a good match for CD. Illustration and Communications Design always go hand-in-hand." That was an unbelievably true statement, because to design you usually need to draw. (Well, that was Beca's reasoning, at least.) "If you're interested, the seniors are putting on a Majors Dialogue sometime soon."

Stacie quirked a brow, "friday next week?"

"Yeah, I think so. I suggest you go to that. It helped me out a lot last year. Actually, it's the reason I picked CD."

Aubrey, who had been watching the girls' interactions with amused eyes, finally took her chance to speak up, advising Beca to "check out other Majors Dialogues, too. Because you might want to change your intended Major if you feel a flare for something else."

"It's always a good idea to experiment," a voice from behind the group advised. It was Chloe. "If I hadn't taken UV, I might not have been introduced to photography." With slow and graceful movements Chloe lowered several cups onto the table. "There are a ton of options here, you've just gotta find the one that suits you."

The girls all agreed, vocalizing in their thoughts and experiences with the Freshman classes and various available activities for Freshmen students. One by one cups were plucked from the center of the table, where Chloe had set them all not even moments before. Beca was amazed by how easy it was for the lot of them to converse and move; if anything, Beca would say that they "worked like a well-oiled machine". There was something in their personalities that seemed to mix and match, and in that moment Beca wondered if there could be a place for her too. As much as she hated relationships, a group of friends didn't sound like a bad idea. Especially with these girls.

As the girls drained their cups, they talked about normal things: their future plans, their pasts, favorite foods, experiences in Disney World, pets… They just talked, and even Beca was included. In just the short span of a half-hour, Beca learned many things... For example, Cynthia Rose had a serious relationship with a girl in Maine, Aubrey had an asshole of a father, Stacie had a **lot** of sex, and Chloe was not a natural ginger.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, came _the question that started it all_.

Cynthia Rose, with a smile etched onto her features, looked Beca Mitchell dead in the eyes and asked the following: "are you free tonight?"

The girls all looked towards Beca, amused with excitement lighting up their eyes, as she hesitated with an answer. Before the brunette could say a word, Stacie butt-in with a parameter. "... _And_ do you have thirty dollars?"

Beca paused once more. "Um… I guess?" The young artist narrowed her eyes and glanced to-and-fro between the girls. "Why?"

"There's this thing," Aubrey started before passing the conversation on to Chloe.

"It happens once every few months."

"It's called Paint Wars."

"You can totes come if you'd like. We're taking the bus down there, so all you need is your money, a bus pass, and some white clothing."

Beca's brows knit together. The brunette, though she wouldn't admit it, was extremely confused. "Why white?"

"You'll find out."

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

Wow! I can't believe the positive reviews on this. You guys are honestly the best! Thank you so much for accepting my thoughts and ideas… Also, thanks for just running with my Art School vocab. That's cool.

Sorry about the short chapters, but I've literally been working on this fluidly for a few days. I felt this was a good part to end this chapter at.

Thanks again! Please review!


	4. Chapter 4

"Paint Wars" had been the experience of Beca's college career. Heck, maybe even her life …And It wasn't due to the thrumming, magical dubstep or the breath-taking paint (which had been shot out of several cannons across the stage), but because of the people that had made it happen; her new friends.

From the moment the group stepped off of the bus, all clad in various white tees and shorts, Beca got a rush. She felt like a racecar driver speeding through that first lap after being tied-down to their legs for their whole life. For the first time in years she felt free, and the world felt like her oyster. The faces of everyone she pbutted mirrored her own; curious, content, and excited. But she only knew how she, herself, felt… and that was "awesome". Taking her first step into the concert hall was just as invigorating! She could hardly wait to get her ticket, grab her friends, and then start the show.

Beca's music taste had always been a bit of a mystery. Some days she liked Indie Rock, and others she liked Pop. Lucky for her that day was a "dubstep day" because the little artist's heart was beating like the dazzling bbutt in any good Zedd song.

Eager and dusky eyes scanned the dozens of people that were pushed forward and towards the stage, all shouting over the coarse voices of one-another in hopes that their friends could hear. Normally the noise would irk Beca, but in this case it invigorated her. It was so different from the lifestyle of the Artist and their peers. Along with the voices, the heat and compression of all able-bodied persons rose. Everyone wanted a closer position towards the stage… It seemed like everyone silently knew, within the ruckus of the concert, that the closer to the stage the more fun you would have... The more paint could be shot at you in alarming quantities. Lucky for Beca, the group of friends that she was with at the time had also picked this up.

With a few "excuse me"s and "shove it, Bangkok"s, the group of seven had made their way up to the front.

"Are you ready to have the time of your life?"

Beca looked to the left of her, where Chloe stood; waiting for a response of some kind. "Hell yeah!"

Chloe's reaction was instantaneous, her smile curled and tugged at the ends of her lips like some invisible force had pulled at their edges. Beca was astounded for a quick moment before everything around her went black.

And then, like someone had flipped on a mbuttive power switch, her world lit back up with crackling electricity and an ominous hum.

"I am L.U.K.E., and this…" two jaw-dropping bbutt pumps shook the building, "...is Paint Wars." Beca Mitchell felt herself vibrate and hum with a newfound excitement. This was an experience unlike any other, and she was prepared to throw herself into it's captivating clutches.

Paint in neon hues blasted from silver cannons hidden around the stage, gusting past (and on to) all of the attendees in their paths. Chloe and Co. must've come here before, Beca noted, because it sure felt like their particular group got the greatest hits out of the crowd. As L.U.K.E. pushed out his beats, the paint continued to pour down on them… So much to the point where Beca was practically dripping pink. (And yellow. And blue.)

She felt alive… She felt like the colors she had been shedding weren't paint, but all of the emotions and expressions she had been holding back.

It was like she was painting again, only this time Beca was the canvas.

There were times Beca would glance over and catch Fat Amy colliding into others or witness Stacy's ta-ta's topple out of her tank, but the moments she found the most special were when she would just look over and catch Chloe's gaze. In those short seconds the world would slow, and everything would go quiet. She would be able to feel the world move around her, but she herself would be stuck in place until Chloe removed her gaze and continued with her hyped dancing. Every time this happened, Beca was filled with two things: hope and gratitude. Silent hope and gratitude, but hope and gratitude nonetheless. If it weren't for Chloe's outspoken behavior and/or demeanor, Beca would probably be in her dorm on Netflix.

So, yeah. She was most definitely grateful.

* * *

"That was crazy!"

"No kidding, I think I lost my bra…"

"You went in there without a bra."

"Oh, right."

Beca listened to her new friends excitedly chatter amongst themselves as she rewound the events of the past two hours in her head. There had been dancing, laughing, paint... lots and lots of paint... but most importantly, fun. Beca never had so much fun with a group of "strangers" before- not like she had done anything like this in the past- and she seriously hoped that the seven women would ask her to do something like this again. Beca liked those seven girls; they accepted her for who she was, and she accepted them right back.

They were weirdos, collectively. Collectively weirdos.

In high school Beca was more of the "strong and silent" type, she rarely did anything with anyone else- solely because she believed that she didn't need to. High school was an unimportant four-year experience full of backstabbing and drama. Beca, being the smart girl she was, knew that she didn't need that in her life. She didn't need people in her life. She was perfectly fine on her own, and having people to screw around with her would only exceed in screwing that mentality up. Solitarity was familiar and safe, always had been and at the time she felt it always would be.

"So!" A soft hand clasped itself against a spot near Beca's neck, "did you have fun?" Curious and dazzling blue eyes glistened through the darkness of the night as they walked themselves home.

Her legs were hurting from the previous events, but Beca paid the pain little heed. Instead, she grinned. "Well, I have paint in places I never thought paint could go… But yeah, it was fun." A beat. "Thanks."

"It was our pleasure." As if they were suddenly paying attention, Beca's new friends quickly agreed with Chloe. If she didn't know better, Beca could've sworn that she felt her little Grinch heart grow two times in size. "If you ever want to hang out with us, feel free. Actually," Chloe held out her hand, "gimme your phone real quick."

Beca did as she was told and reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone and unlocking it, and handed it over to the bubbly ginger.

"E-mail can be unreliable. Slow." Chloe typed something into Beca's phone with knowing haste and handed it back, "there. Now any time you're feeling bored, we can all do something together again."

Eager and chilled hands grappled for her phone, looking at Chloe's new contact information as it revealed itself to her unknowing grey eyes. Right before she could thank Chloe or do anything further, the phone was thrust from her grasp once more and entered Fat Amy's hands. And then Stacie's. Then Cynthia Rose's, and so on before it finally returned. By the time it did, the group had halted their advances and were all standing before the entrance of BIA's designated Dorm Rooms.

"Woah, uh, okay. Cool." Beca let a small smile flicker across her features before she looked up to her friends. "Thanks."

"No problem. I would normally prefer FaceBook, but the wait list for me accepting friend requests is pretty lengthy." Fat Amy clasped her hands, "this'll be quicker."

The brunette's smile broadened as she nodded her head knowingly. "Right."

Stacie brought up a finger, "Oh! I might not pick up anytime past 10:00 at night, just so you know."

"Bed time?"

Cynthia Rose shot the seductress a knowing grin, "not in the way you're thinking."

"Oh." Beca's lips pursed together as she tried to hide her amusement. "Okay. Gotcha." Sex demon Stacie, right.

As her eyes left Stacie, they landed upon Chloe's fiery mane once more. "So… I'll see you guys later?"

A blinding smile lit up Beca's world in response, "totes."

Beca smiled, gave a quick curt "thank you", and made her way into her dorm building. The moment the girls were out of her sight, Beca felt a rush of overwhelming and complicated emotions. Talking to people wasn't something she had been too fond of, but in this case… These were friends she could see having throughout her future. She didn't mind talking to them one bit. However, that said, she did feel a little overwhelmed by everything that had just transpired. She would need a lengthy nap, no doubt.

* * *

 **A/N** : Sorry about another short af chapter, college is keeping me busy!

Follow me on Tumblr acawiedersehen for updates and such. Talk to me. Whatever!

Thanks for reading! Stay baller like a dollar!


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